


Up the Stairs

by AnneCumberbatch



Series: Sometimes in the Evening [13]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Caring John Watson, Carrying, Domestic, Don’t copy to another site, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Frustrated John Watson, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Sleepy Kisses, Sleepy Sherlock Holmes, Sometimes in the Evening, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 20:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneCumberbatch/pseuds/AnneCumberbatch
Summary: “Come on, you.” John grasped a hand on Sherlock’s arm and slid another around his side. “Home and bed.”Sherlock moved forward into John’s hold, turning it into a limp embrace. He pressed a small kiss to the side of John’s neck. “Mm. Genius.”John’s mouth twitched up into a small smile. “Yes, I know, you are. Let’s go, come on, stand up. Let’s go.”Sherlock’s brow furrowed. “I know I am. Not what I meant.”





	Up the Stairs

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thanks for your patience with this next installment!! I appreciate you all. You can reach me here or on my Tumblr. 
> 
> <3 Always accepting prompts.
> 
> This one was influenced by a prompt from Forgotten_mystery: "Could you possible write a fic where it’s Sherlock who is sick and John picks him up and gets caught by Lestrade as he’s carrying him with Sherlock nuzzling into John’s broad chest? And John talks to him about how much he cares for him while holding him? Please!! Please!!!"
> 
> \- While Sherlock's not exactly s i c k, I think exhaustion is definitely a kind of sickness for him. I hope you enjoy it!

John knew the instant Sherlock’s body caught up with the fact that the case was complete. They were standing about two feet apart on the pavement in front of a flat, just inside a ring of police cars with lights flashing, watching an arsonist being shoved into the back of a car. Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Sherlock’s shoulders suddenly slump. He turned to his partner and nudged Sherlock’s shoulder with his own. “Sherlock?”

“Hm?” Sherlock’s head moved minutely in his direction, his eyes glazing over.

“Time to go home, I think, yeah?” John moved to stand in front of him, thankful that the Yarders’ attention was focused elsewhere. They had kept their relationship private to the point of secrecy and John had no intentions on outing them at this moment. He held out a hand. It was clear Sherlock had expended the last of his energy. “Come on, you.” He grasped a hand on Sherlock’s arm and slid another around his side. “Home and bed.”

Sherlock moved forward into John’s hold, turning it into a limp embrace. He pressed a small kiss to the side of John’s neck. “Mm. Genius.”

John’s mouth twitched up into a small smile. “Yes, I know, you are. Let’s go, come on, stand up. Let’s go.”

Sherlock’s brow furrowed. “I know I am. Not what I meant.” Sherlock’s head tilted back slightly, gazing at John, his body swaying slightly.

“I know.” John glanced around them to make sure no one was watching before raising himself up on his tiptoes and pressing a kiss to the corner of Sherlock’s mouth. “Let’s ask Lestrade for a ride.”

John wrapped his hand around Sherlock’s wrist and walked with him towards the Lestrade, standing close to support his partner. Greg was standing next to Donovan as he gave her instructions on what to start with first as they bagged and catalogued the arsonist’s flat. Once they reached the him, Sherlock blinked and looked around them. John kept his hand on the small of Sherlock’s back as he flagged down Lestrade’s attention with a tired smile. “Would you mind driving Sherlock and me home? I’ll put together our statements at home and get them off to you.

Donovan’s eyes dropped to at John’s arm around Sherlock’s waist holding him up. “You’ll be getting something off tonight.”

“Donovan.” Lestrade’s voice was sharp as he gave her a look before turning and pulling out his keys. “I’ll be right down, John. 

“Ta.” John pointedly ignored Donovan and with a slight pull, John tugged him towards the direction of the elevator, watching where Sherlock was placing his feet. The usually graceful man was significantly less so at this level of exhaustion and his long feet tripped on the carpet twice before they reached the privacy of the metal box. Once inside, Sherlock sank against the wall, exhaling in slight distress. “John, I’m so tired.” 

“Hey.” John pressed the necessary button then once the doors closed, wrapped his arms around Sherlock. “I know. We’re going home so you can sleep.”

Sherlock shook his head, his forehead crinkling in distress. “I’m too tired to walk home. I won’t make it.”

John squeezed him. “Greg’s driving us, idiot. I wouldn’t make you walk home, what kind of a boyfriend would I be?”

Sherlock shook his head, his serious expression exaggerated due to sleepiness, “You’re a very good boyfriend. You would carry me home even though it would be terrible for your shoulder. You are impressively strong for your small frame.”

John rolled his eyes. “Ta, you berk.” The elevator dinged and the doors opened. “Come on, then. Out you go.”

Sherlock nodded and walked across the lobby and to the exit, John stepping alongside him. Once they were outside, Sherlock flipped up the collar of his coat and plunged his hands deep into his pockets, scowling at the brisk wind accosting them. Greg joined them after a few minutes, and they walked over to his car parked nearby on the street. John shuffled Sherlock into it, who flopped down into the backseat and slid down until his head was resting against the back of the car cushion. John and Greg shared a glance of amusement before John slid in next to him and Greg started the car. Once they were seated inside and moving away from NSY, Sherlock took the opportunity to snuggle against John’s side, his head resting against John’s shoulder and their hands linked together in his lap. John smiled fondly at him and squeezed Sherlock’s hand.

Once they reached Baker Street, Greg parked, and John tossed him his keys as he manouvered Sherlock out of the car and towards the front door. Greg opened the door and John steered Sherlock into the front hall. However, when Sherlock saw the stairs, he shook his head and sat on the steps instead of ascending.

John ran a hand through his hair. “Sherlock, love, we have to go _up_the stairs.”

Sherlock shook his head, his eyelids drooping so far they were almost closed. “This’s fine. Mrs. Hudson won’t mind…”

Lestrade snorted. “Jesus, he’s out of it.”

John rolled his eyes at him. “He’s just tired, okay? Leave him alone.” He knelt in front of Sherlock. “My love, come on, let’s go upstairs. You’ll be much more comfortable.”

Sherlock shook his head and leaned forward until his forehead was resting against John’s shoulder. “This is fine...”

John brought a hand up to rest on Sherlock’s shoulder and looked towards the ceiling in a silent prayer for patience. “Sherlock, get up or I’m going to carry you up the stairs like a child.”

Sherlock shook his head, his curls rustling against John’s shirt. “M’not a child.”

“Then get up.”

“No.”

Lestrade snorted behind them. John gave him a glare. “Sherlock.”

Sherlock slumped further against John. With a sigh, John gently turned him and wrapped his arms around him, one around his shoulders and the other under his knees. He exhaled slowly before hefting Sherlock up and against his chest, his shoulder immediately feeling the strain.

Lestrade took a step towards him. “Hold on, mate, are you sure you’re able to-“

John started steadily up the stairs. “Shove off, Greg.” He continued steadily up the stairs, pausing for a few moments to get a better hold on his lanky but significantly weighted partner’s limp body. Sherlock pressed his face against John’s shirt and John tightened his arms around him. “It’s okay, my love. It’s going to be alright. Just a little longer. I know, you’re just so tired. You’ve been working for so long.” His voice was soft, and Sherlock nuzzled into him, feeling the rumbles and vibrations through John’s chest. After making it to the top of the stairs, he turned a sharp left and went through the kitchen and into their bedroom before plopping Sherlock onto the bed. “I am never doing that again, you prick.”

Sherlock mumbled, his face nuzzling against the comforter. John ran a hand through Sherlock’s curls and noticed the signs of REM starting. He sighed softly before his fingers moved to unbutton Sherlock’s shirt and slide and tug it off his lithe frame. He glanced up and noticed Greg in the doorway. “Oi, a little privacy, I’ll be out in a second. You know where the kettle is.”

Greg ducked away. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t drop him on the floor.”

John rolled his eyes and tugged off the rest of Sherlock’s clothes, leaving him in his pants. He shoveled him under the covers and tucked him in before wrapping an arm around him and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you. Sleep well, my love.”

Sherlock didn’t move in response, his face soft with sleep.

John stood and went into the kitchen, where Greg was just pouring hot water into two mugs with teabags. “I chose peppermint. You seemed to have plenty of it.”

“Sherlock prefers chamomile or black, so there’s not a lot of call for it. I’ll need that video from you, Greg.” John rested a closed fist on the kitchen table and leaned on it.

“What video?” Greg’s eyes opened a little too wide.

John shook his head. “You know how he would feel if people saw it. He’s just worked for three days straight; he’s entitled to some privacy. Not to mention people would talk more than they already do.”

Greg slid a mug over to John. “There’s reason to, you do realise that.”

“It’s none of their business.” John accepted the drink and blew on the beverage before taking a tentative sip. “We like our privacy. They already give us so much shit, we decided we wouldn’t go public. It’s for mental health and safety reasons, you know this.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Greg pulled out his phone and typed into it for a few moments. John felt a ding in his pocket. “I sent it to you, at least, but no one else will see it. No one but Sherlock hacks my phone anyways.”

“I appreciate it.” John pulled out his phone and played the video. He smiled as he saw Sherlock’s sleepy face from earlier as he was desperately trying to function and failing completely.

“I’m really happy for you two. Truly.”

“Thank you. We’re pretty happy too.” John smiled softly up at Greg. “Now, how about that paperwork.”

**Author's Note:**

> Questions, comments, and critiques are always welcome! Thank you so much for reading!


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